Chapter 20
Will
My hands were sweating like crazy. I gripped the steering wheel the entire ride to Philly as Clarke grilled me, one question after another, about our past and present.
I parked my car in the garage across the street from Market House Press, the home office of The Gossip Queen, and walked with Clarke in silence.
She wouldn’t stop biting her lip, a dead giveaway that she was nervous.
Callie Bloom was an old friend of Clarke.
They knew each other from when Clarke worked at The Philadelphia Inquirer with Mia.
They used to grab drinks together after work, one of the few times my sister left the house without being coerced.
Callie would sniff out our lie in a heartbeat if Clarke kept acting so nervous. So I stopped her before we entered the lobby, pushing my hand out in front of her.
“Calm down,” I told her. “This is a sit-down with a friend. You’re acting so jittery, you’re even freaking me out. Callie will see right through us.”
She blew out a deep breath. “I’ll be fine when I see her. Just working the nervous energy out of my system.”
“Keep biting your lip, and you won’t have any skin left on it.”
Clarke ran her finger across her bottom lip. “Old habit. I’m good.”
She opened the door and entered the lobby, marching across the tiled floor to let the security guard know we were there to see Callie. After we handed over our driver’s licenses, the man behind the desk looked at me with a silly grin. He nodded in acknowledgment, and I tipped my head to him.
We slapped the visitor badges onto our shirts and got on the elevator. Clarke reached for my hand when the doors closed, and I slipped my fingers between hers. Both of our hands were sweaty and gross. She glanced up at me, her lips pressed together.
No one was in the car with us, so I pushed her back against the wall. The elevator dinged with each floor we passed, and I looked up to see how much time we had.
Ten more floors.
Enough time to kiss away her worries.
I moved my hand to her hip and pulled her chest to mine.
Clarke hooked her arms around my neck and breathed against my lips.
Desire flickered in her eyes before I sucked her lip into my mouth, holding her flush against me.
She moaned in my mouth as she tugged at the ends of my hair.
We both needed this moment of release, a second to catch our bearings before we had to lie through our teeth.
For me, this relationship was not a lie. I cared about Clarke. She was the girl I could never nail down until that fateful night in Vegas. My feelings were real. And if I was right about Clarke, she loved me once upon a time. She would love me again. I was sure of it.
When the elevator beeped on our floor, our lips separated.
Clarke stared at me, struggling for breath, as she fixed her shirt back into place.
I checked my appearance in the mirrored wall behind her.
Apart from the messy hair, I looked decent.
I fixed the mess Clarke made of my hair and led her out of the elevator.
Holding hands, we strolled over to the reception desk.
The brunette behind the desk smiled as we approached her. “Welcome to Market House Press.”
“We’re here to see Callie Bloom,” Clarke said. “Will and Clarke Roman, she’s expecting us.”
“One moment.” She held up her index finger before picking up the phone.
I dipped my head down to whisper in her ear. “That sounds so good, Mrs. Roman.”
She looked up at me. “That’s my legal name now… or at least it will be.”
I steered her away from the receptionist, my voice low as I spoke. “I thought you wanted to keep your last name.”
“Changed my mind.”
“I bet last night had a lot to do with your change of heart.”
“All those orgasms didn’t rot my brain,” she shot back with a slick smile. “It’s the right move. We need to sell this.”
“Still, I like the sound of Clarke Roman. Has a certain ring to it.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she muttered.
“We’ll see about that.”
“Clarke,” a woman called out.
I glanced to my left and found Callie Bloom with her hand raised as she approached us.
“Hey, girl,” Clarke said without an ounce of the nervousness she showed a second ago. “Long time, no see.” She hugged Callie. “How are you?”
“Hanging in there.”
“Are you and the girls still living with Amelia?”
She laughed. “Yeah. It’s like a frat house for women.”
“I believe they call those sororities,” I quipped.
“Not this house,” Callie said with laughter in her voice. “It’s like a bunch of frat dudes live there, except they’re my besties.”
“Sounds like my kind of house,” I joked.
Callie gave me a stern look. “Not something you should say in front of your new wife, Romeo.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
I did, but whatever. It was a bad joke.
Callie regarded me with curiosity. Her gaze swept over Clarke, who hooked her arm between mine and smiled. She was doing her best to keep it together. We were both struggling to put on a unified front.
Callie tipped her head toward the glass doors to our right. “Let’s take this convo into the conference room.”
I could tell Callie already had her doubts about me. And I’d just given her some ammunition. If we could convince her we were in love, everyone would believe it. At least, that was what I had hoped.
I followed the girls as we walked down a long hallway filled with flashes of pink, red, and blue that popped against the white walls. Everything at Market House was pretty and polished.
“Is Romeo treating you okay?” Callie said as she looked at Clarke, ignoring that I was only a few feet behind them. “You know, he has a bit of a reputation. I thought it was a hoax when I saw your pics from Vegas.”
“The wedding was real,” Clarke admitted.
Callie shook her head. “Elvis. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t. We were drunk and wanted to get married. We plan to have a recommitment ceremony so our families can attend the wedding.”
My eyes widened. Wow, Clarke was selling our lie. But was another ceremony necessary? Maybe. Having friends and family stand with us to legitimize our relationship couldn’t hurt.
“You better invite me,” Callie cooed. “And I call dibs on the best man.”
“He’s married to my sister,” I told her.
Clarke laughed. “You called dibs on Nate’s best man, and if I recall correctly, that didn’t turn out so well for you.”
“No, it didn’t,” Callie said with bitterness.
At the end of the hall, we made a left into the conference room, and Callie closed the door behind me. I sat beside Clarke at the long table, and Callie sat across from us.
She removed a recorder from her pocket. “Mind if I record this?”
“Go ahead,” Clarke muttered.
I nodded my approval.
Callie clicked on the recorder, and a green light flashed.
She set it on the table, her eyes fixed on me.
My heart banged in my chest as she studied my face for malice.
I could handle myself in challenging situations.
Years of being in the NHL had proven that.
But with my career on the line, I was sweating bullets.
One wrong move and Callie could flip our story and ruin our careers.
“What made you decide to get married in Vegas?”
“We wanted to,” I replied. “It’s not like we just met. I have known Clarke for three years. She’s my sister’s best friend. We’ve dated on and off for a long time.”
Callie pressed her lips together, unimpressed.
“Why now? It seems rather convenient timing for you. Last month, you almost got arrested for drunk driving with Liam West. A few weeks before that, the media spotted you with a group of women, and it was pretty clear you were tackling them as a team effort.”
I choked down the bile and forced a fake smile. “Looks are deceiving. Pictures can tell lies.”
“Are you saying you weren’t with them?”
“Not all of them.”
She looked at Clarke for confirmation.
“I know all about his past,” Clarke admitted with a straight face. “Will isn’t a saint, but that doesn’t change how I feel about him.”
“And how do you feel about him?”
“I love him,” she said without hesitation. “And he loves me.”
“I do,” I said before Callie could shoot a stare at me. “I know how our relationship looks to outsiders, but what we have is different. Clarke gets me. She accepts the mistakes I’ve made in the past.”
Clarke linked her arm with mine and tapped her fingers on my thigh. “He’s not Romeo anymore.”
“No?” Callie leaned her elbows on the table, her gaze wavering between us. “I have a hard time believing he’s changed in a month.”
“Come to the real wedding,” Clarke suggested. “You’ll see for yourself.”
“When is it?”
“Next month,” Clarke choked out.
I did my best to keep a straight face. We could arrange a wedding ceremony on short notice, but not in a month. My parents would need to fly out from Arizona, where they retired a few years ago. My training schedule was amping up soon, with the pre-season slowly approaching.
“Can I bring the girls?” Callie asked.
She referred to her roommates and friends who worked with her at Market House Press.
“Sure,” I chimed. “Bring whoever you want.”
Callie pursed her lips. “I’m holding off on my story until the wedding.”
Clarke sighed beside me. “We understand. But it would help us get the media off our backs.”
“You know my policy, babe. I don’t print stories until I can confirm the truth. Until the wedding…”
That was the end of the interview.
Callie walked us to the lobby, we said our goodbyes, and then we hopped into an empty elevator. I leaned against the wall, holding Clarke in my arms. We both let out a sigh of relief.
“That was close,” she breathed.
“We’re not out of the woods yet, babe. Our wedding has to look legit.”
She groaned. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“No, it’s fine. We should do this. But we need our friends and families here this time. Might be hard on short notice.”
“My mom will come. Who knows with my dad? He hasn’t even texted since the news broke about our wedding. I’m sure he’s heard by now.”
“Maybe not.” I hugged her against my chest and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll figure this out. Real or not, it will be the best damn wedding.”